


Cyanide

by orphan_account



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, Major Character Injury, Torture, cyanide - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little pet theory about what actually happened in China. Sliding towards Tiago/M slightly. Probably unrealistic, but whatever. I like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cyanide

Tiago lay as sprawled out as the small amount of space in his cell would allow, one hand clamped hard over the deep gash in the left side of his stomach, attempting to hold it closed and stem the flow of blood. The cut was something like four inches deep and twice as long, slashing down his torso exposing the sickening red gleam of his guts, which he could see in the half light when he mustered the strength to turn his head and look.

He bent his head low, his overlong hair, dark and matted, falling into his face and obscuring his vision. He kept his gaze focused slightly cross-eyed on the shattered bridge of his nose, not wanting to look at the sick, bloody, twisted mess of his legs. Agony had seized hold of his mind; his body shook with every laboured breath, movement was complete murder and he could practically feel himself slowly shutting down. The Chinese certainly knew how to break a man, both literally and metaphorically.

The grip of his other hand tightened, not wanting to lose what he had clasped tightly in his sweat-dampened palm. With a fragile movement that took more than a few attempts, he held the tiny white capsule up to his eye level, loss of blood making him see double. Should he? A warm bead of perspiration slipped down his already tear and blood streaked face. His eyes closed, his thoughts all on her. She was a lot of things to him...but she was also a traitor. No, she wasn't. Yes, she was. This was her fault. But he couldn't bring himself to blame her for his suffering. M. He thought back to those several futile attempts at guessing her real name, and when all else failed resorting to referring to her as 'Mommy' or 'Mother'. He uttered that now, the cyanide capsule inches away from his open mouth, the white plastic surrounding the lethal poison within warm from his body heat and brushing his lips.  
"Mommy, where are you?"

A slight involuntary jerk of his foot reminded him of his pain and what he now so badly wanted wanted to be freed from. Focusing on his strongest memory of her, wanting her face to be the last thing on his mind ever, he placed the capsule in his mouth and bit down. Hard.  
__________________________________________________________________________________________

Hours passed. Hours turned to days. Days to weeks. The pain Tiago was in now truly was something else. He couldn't swallow. Couldn't speak. Couldn't close his mouth. Couldn't even blink. His hand traced the sunken line of his right cheekbone, feeling the hollow of his cheek and the still ever-constant bite of the acidic poison lingering over the inside of his mouth, burning all the time as if it were on fire. His partially dissolved tongue ran across near-empty, bleeding gums, not able to taste so much as his own blood. His hands were shaking, his whole body convulsing with sobs of utter agony. His head lolled back on his weak neck, leaning on his shoulder like a ragdoll's, the mutilated shell of his once-handsome face angled up at the ceiling. What were left of his teeth sunk into the acid damaged, papery skin of his lips, sending a torrent of crimson down his chin in a warm flood. He stared at the layer of congealed blood covering almost every inch of his clothingless body.  
This...and life still clung to him like a disease...

How on earth could she, his precious M, do this to him? All he had suffered through; the secrets he had guarded with his life, the blood and sweat and tears, the deprivation of oxygen, the knife play, the forced sex with another man...All to protect her and her precious England. And he had been cast off in a manner such as a damaged toy - which, to her, he was in effect - without so much as a second thought. His silent prayers, his beg for rescue, his strangled sobs that he hoped vaguely she would pick up...But to no avail. 

A broken shell of the former womanizing, flybynight MI6 agent Tiago Rodriguez was all that remained of him; wounded, bleeding, filthy and unshaven; castrated, forever taunted by death which slipped through his fingers on each and every chance at sweet, quiet release; destroyed. What had happened to him? Of course she didn't want him back! Would he want a girlfriend who couldn't write because all of her fingers were broken? Or who couldn't speak because her esophagus had melted into her stomach? No, he wouldn't. But now that was him. Unwanted. Discarded. 

He had been dumped; by MI6, the iron-haired maiden who hadn't trusted him to keep her secrets, and soon to be by his captors. He was useless; he was going to die or live out the rest of his life a mutilated hollow, either way going to his grave a broken man. 

He let another sob shake him. Years ago, he remembered leaving what had been his home in Spain for two years to go back for MI6; leaving for good his fiancee Martinique Vergara and daughter Zurine Rodriguez, at the time a blonde infant revelled in his admiration who couldn't say anything more than a lisped 'Papi'. Would he ever see her again? Would she remember him? Would she want to? 

Once more he focused on M...His only hope. It was all too clear that she had betrayed him; this was her fault and he should hate her, but he couldn't bring himself to. If only she could see his plight...

Though the strangled gargle that now was his voice would have made no sense to anyone else, he knew exactly what he was saying – well, trying to say – and hoped that somewhere M did too.  
"Mommy, I need you..."

 

-Fin-

**Author's Note:**

> Zurine is an actual fan character of mine; she appears in several of my fics under the alias of Lila Silva, sometimes out to avenge her papi's death, sometimes in place of Severine (only he doesn't shoot her) I'll post some more with her in it soon.


End file.
